


Not Finished

by butimnotdeadyet



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 1x16, Gen, Missing Scene, post 4x19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butimnotdeadyet/pseuds/butimnotdeadyet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene between Sara and Oliver in the LOT finale because why not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Finished

**Author's Note:**

> Breaks are POV changes, Sara is first.

The room she sat in was dark and cool, underground who knows how many stories, but more importantly, it was quiet. She figured that was why he had chosen it, arched brick and slick concrete over the comfort of insulated walls and house plants. __She  would have- and obviously  _ did _ , judging by the fact that she was now half curled into his sad excuse for a bed and doing everything in her power to keep her heart rate in an acceptable range. She felt more than heard him enter the annex, with a cautious stride that told her he must have be warned by her father, who had been with her, in the lair and at the burial site, until  _ he _ had called in need of some secret file or another- accessible only at the computer on the platform.  

 

He was alone, at least, which was good. She knew that the moment that she looked John or Thea in the eye she would never be able to leave them alone to face Darhk, and she would have, anyway, if she didn’t have a plan for mutiny already bubbling to the surface. And a mission she  _ knew  _ she had to finish. He was half away across the room before she glanced up from the hands clenching her knees - painfully, if she had the sense of mind to notice - but he stilled when she spoke.

 

\---

 

“I left you alone and she’s killed within five months-- really wish we were better at keeping the people we cared about alive, Ollie.”

 

He felt himself flinch, at least as intensely as he ever did, at the words before he remembered. Remembered that this was  _ Sara _ and that anything she said, no matter how empty and dark the words, wasn’t a shot or thinly veiled blame, even if they landed with the strength of a blow to the stomach. . . or the heart. He watched as her eyes flicked away as quickly as they had landed on his and he moved forward again, barely making it another three feet before he had an armful of hard muscle and blonde hair, with shaking hands wrapping around him only an instant faster than his own enclosed her.

 

“I’m sorry.” His eyelids pinched shut in hopes of fending off the moisture forming behind them, knowing that it was useless because she had already heard them in his voice. He pressed a kiss into her hair before she pulled back slightly, drawing away without the limited light catch her face but letting her voice go unmuffled by his suit.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t here. For you or her.”

 

“You were doing-- she wanted you to find yourself, Sara,” he tightened his arms her, pulling her back to him, “None of us would have asked for anything different. She’s. . . gone, but you know Laurel and she knew you, and me, and knew what we needed.”

“Oliver, it would have been different. If I had-”

 

“It might have been different, but Sara, it happened. It wasn’t like with you, she wasn’t  _ alone _ .” She shuddered against him and he shifted to look her in the face, seeing pain settle across her features, blanketing the sadness. “She had answers, knew everything, and she talked to us. Sara,” he shifted them so that her eyes fell on his again, “it wasn’t peaceful, but she is  _ at peace _ .”

 

“I know, Ollie, I do, but I thought-” he heard the word catch in her throat, and they were quiet for a moment as breathing leveled out enough for the words to form. “I thought that coming home would be easier than being there.” She waited until his eyebrows creased, asking. “It- the mission wasn’t over; we didn’t kill Savage, but the _Captain_ ,” he caught the tone and almost smiled at her ever present issues with authority, “pulled the plug- dumped us back here and while everyone was groaning about leaving the job unfinished, leaving some of our own with only Rip to help them, I was . . . relieved.”

 

\---

 

_ Crap.  _ She could see him processing, silently hoping that he would harden, ask when she had become a quitter, an abandoner, knowing she wouldn’t have a defense, and she would be able to pretend that she hadn’t open the door to this particular labyrinth. 

 

“What happened?” He pressed a hand to her cheek, keeping her looking at him, holding her.

 

She sighed, because he of all people wouldn’t let her off easy. Not when he knew that whatever ‘happened’, whatever changed, was compounded by her sister’s murder, or compounded her murder. 

 

“I- we lost someone, and he didn’t die safe or with friends. He hadn’t even wanted to save them, then he goes and-” His jaw clenched and she could see him grinding his teeth, and knew that she was losing whatever control she had over her volume. “He died  _ for us. _ For the team and for the future and for being a hero and for m-!” She cut herself off in time before she could say something that would only lead to more questions that she  _ wasn’t  _ ready to answer. She thudded the bottom of her fist- formed some point after her emotions decided to dictate her actions- against the chest in front of her. “And we can’t do anything for him.”

 

“Sara, who-”

 

“No. This isn’t about that, or him. This is about being able to do something for _ her _ .” She straightened, pulling away from him completely for the first time. 

“I have to go, Ollie. Somewhere to be; someone to threaten.”

 

She ran a thumb over his cheek, under the understandably startled blue eyes, before turning and throwing a smile that he had once told her was a death threat in and of itself over her shoulder and making towards the elevator and towards a timeship-flying Brit with a very poor understanding of her priorities. 

**Author's Note:**

> Actual meant to write this ages ago, but forgot. 
> 
> much love,  
> dead


End file.
